The Elite
by Cykrawlerine
Summary: AU.  Kakashi and Iruka play for the Konoha Elite, a high school hockey team near Ottawa, Canada.  They've always stuck together, through everything.  Now, when Iruka becomes the target for persectution by others, will Kakashi be able to help him through?
1. Chapter 1

Okay, everybody, I present: The Elite, a plot that's been stuck in my head forever, begging to be written. 

I myself am a huge hockey fan, and am from the Buffalo area... I love the Sabres, and that's why Iruka does in this story. I consider myself knowledgeable about the sport, so I will try to avoid inaccuracies in this.

This fic will not be KakaIru. It's a good, strong friendship and bond between them. Don't ask me to make it KakaIru, because I don't plan on it. I have one KakaIru fic in the works, to be titled 'The Definition of Family,' as well as Cast No Shadow, which is a couple chapters in already. BTW, I am going to update CNS soon; it's just taking awhile for me to write it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Kakashi, Iruka, or any other characters in this thing. It's all copyright Masashi Kishimoto.

And now, the story:

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Concentration was key. Losing it spelt doom. Uncertainty spelt doom. Faltering would be his demise. Everything rested upon this moment. Everything was lost if he failed now.

Focus, Iruka!

Concentrate-concentrate-concentrate...

The enemy was coming nearer, the object of Iruka's desire in his clutches, being shuffled across the smooth, glass-like surface upon which they all survived. Iruka trained his eyes upon the enemy, following every movement of his feet, every shifting in the bladed staff of composite wood that held the round chunk of charcoal-black rubber that he sought so fervently. That puck was his...

The opposing forward bore down on his stick, putting on a quick burst of speed and trying out a few fancy stick handling moves that might have worked to throw off some lesser goaltender. But Iruka was a tough guy to beat at the net. There wasn't much that got past him. Not if his concentration was on.

Closer.

Closer.

A tell-tale shift in the enemy's grip told him exactly where he needed to go. He slid himself down to the ice beneath him, dropping to his knees and shifting to his right, his gloved right hand darting out of its own accord to snag the puck that hurtled towards him from a quick wrist shot.

A grin spread across his sweat-drenched face as he felt the satisfying weight of the puck in his glove, and he closed his leather-encased hand around it in a death grip. Peering out from the cave-like helmet surrounding his head, he saw his teammates falling into face-off formation to his right, a familiar tall, proud figure in the center position with his stick gripped in the backwards fashion used in the face-off.

The adrenaline finally drained away, and he felt able to loosen his grip on the puck. He flipped it out of his glove and to the man in the striped shirt, who then skated off to stand between the Konoha Elite's star forward and the opposing team's center player. Iruka looked on, ready to defend his goal should the need arise. But he'd seen this same set up too many times to be very worried.

Not with Kakashi Hatake on the ice.

Nobody ever worried too much when Kakashi Hatake was on the ice.

There wasn't really much reason too, as was about to be proved yet again momentarily.

He watched the familiar play unfold before him. Kakashi won the face-off easily, passing it backwards to the right-winger, Izumo Kamizuki, who, though he stood a few inches shorter than Kakashi, was a surprisingly quick skater. He maneuvered easily around the enemy defense and skated in over the line into the opposing team's end. Kakashi was right behind him. A quick drop pass led the puck into Kakashi's stick, where it was snatched up and propelled forward along with Kakashi as the teen put on a burst of speed towards the net.

The rest, as they say, was history.

The goalie never knew what hit him.

Kakashi had a signature way of faking out the goalie that involved a complex method of copying the goalie's movements, rather than letting the goaltender follow his motions. Nobody was sure how he did it, since he'd never really explained even when asked by the coach. It was his move. It worked almost every time.

Like now.

The puck was between the goalposts before you could say ▒Goal!'.

Iruka smiled.

Yeah, most of the team was pretty damn happy that Kakashi played for their team rather than the enemy's.

Not to mention that the Konoha Elite had a damn good goaltender on top of having Kakashi as a center. Not that Iruka would ever brag about that... well, not too much... okay, maybe just a little bit.

The game was over shortly after Kakashi's goal. The Elite's defense stood strong, with the massive Ibiki Morino and sturdy Raido Namiashi on the line. Ibiki could scare the pants off of any enemy forward with single glare, and you just didn't mess with Raido. Period. It wasn't that he was too impressive to look at, but he was tough as nails and a terrific fighter. Between the two of them plus Kakashi, Izumo, and the left-winger Kotetsu Hagane, the opposing team stood no chance of coming back from their 3-goal deficit in the remaining 5 minutes of play.

The Elite won.

As the buzzer went off signaling the end of regulation time, Iruka tossed his helmet back off his face and skated out to celebrate with the rest of his team. There was glove-pounding all around, a few brotherly hugs and a lot of cheering. Kakashi and himself both received claps on the back and words of happy praise from the rest of the team. Spirits were high as the team headed back into the locker room.

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After dutifully listening to Coach Arashi's lengthy post-game spiel, Iruka hefted his heavy equipment bag over his shoulder and exited the crowded locker room, tired, but happy at the team's win. The rest of the team followed suit, with most of them ending up in the main area of the modest indoor rink. Parents of the team members, as well as a few classmates, waited around for their respective players. Home games were always better because they generated a larger turnout, and what could make a player work harder than to know his peers and family are staring down at them?

Iruka had only one person there for him. He found him after searching around for a moment.

"Hey, dad!" He walked over, weighed down slightly by the weight of his equipment, the one downfall to being a goalie. Not to mention it cost a fortune to buy in the first place if you wanted anything quality...

"Iruka! Nice job out there!" The grey-haired man before him gave him a grin and an easy clap on the shoulder. Sarutobi wasn't exactly his father, at least not in the traditional sense. Iruka had lost his parents when he was twelve, and Sarutobi adopted him out of foster care when he was thirteen. Iruka, now sixteen, cared for him like he had his own father, and even though Sarutobi was older, he was a better father to him than most men Iruka had ever met.

He grinned at his adoptive father, shifting the weight on his shoulder to a more comfortable position. Iruka was a good ten centimeters taller than Sarutobi, which left him feeling like he towered over him even though the older man was his central authority figure.

"You see when I snagged that one shot, dad?"

"I did. And it never fails to surprise me how calm you still look when you're playing. Like nothing was even happening."

"That's certainly not how it feels on the inside, I can tell you that right now..."

"Hey, Iruka!" A booming voice rose out over the group, deep and loud, and unmistakably Ibiki's. "You're coming to the midnight bowling tonight, right? Everyone's gonna be there, y'know."

"Yeah, I planned on it. I think I need to go home and get some sleep first, though. Four-thirty is way too frickin' early for a Saturday..."

"I hear you, man! See you later!"

"Sure!" Iruka turned back to his father, a happy smile fixed on his face. "Hey, uh, dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Kakashi said I could come over, you know, hang out, watch a movie or something, and then get some sleep. His dad would drive us up to the bowling alley later for the lock-in."

"I guess that's fine. Saves me a lot of driving around, that's for sure!"

"Cool. I'll just put my stuff in the car, and then go, alright?" He set off walking, lugging his equipment behind him.

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A few minutes later, he was walking side-by-side with Kakashi down an ice-crusted sidewalk, his bare hands shoved deep into his coat pockets and his head bowed slightly in the wind. Kakashi held a similar position, although he still managed to produce a carefree slouch in his posture that made him look unhurried even in the freezing wind. His equipment bag, smaller than Iruka's, was slung over his shoulder. The wind sliced right through Iruka's coat, it seemed, even insulated as it was, but he was used to the cold. Living in Canada can do that to a person. They wouldn't have walked, but since Kakashi didn't live too far from the rink, and his dad was still working, they hoofed it home.

"That was a nice goal today, Kakashi. Tucked it right in five-hole; it was sweet! The goalie didn't even see it coming."

"Yeah."

Normally, such a response to abject praise would be slightly annoying, even insulting to the person doing the complimenting. Not to Iruka. He knew Kakashi too well to be insulted by a one-word response. Most things only warranted a single-word answer from him, and Iruka was used to just continuing to talk, because he knew Kakashi was listening. A lot of people thought the silver-haired boy was ignoring them. Well, actually, that was because he usually was... But Iruka knew he was one of the few that his friend actually listened too when he spoke. He'd even done the impossible; he'd had an entire, two-sided conversation with the teen, and he knew very well that he was one of the few who'd done so.

"Yeah, and Izumo was doing good today, too. That drop-pass was perfect; it went right where it was supposed to. He's been practicing, I think..."

"Saw him working on that this week," Kakashi said quietly, shifting the shoulder that held his bag.

A chill breeze blew through them, ruffling their hair and drawing unwilling tears out of Iruka's eyes. Kakashi didn't as much as flinch. Iruka reached up to adjust his earmuffs, trying to get them to cover the tips of his ears that were starting to feel pretty numb. Yes, he was wearing earmuffs. Only around Kakashi did he dare to wear something like that; Kakashi was the only friend of his that wouldn't make fun of them. He was cool like that. He himself had a black fleece headband around his forehead, slanted downward to cover his left eye. It served not only to keep his ears warm, but to cover the scar on his eye and also kept his over-long, shaggy hair out of his face. It would have looked pretty damn girly on anyone else, but he could pull it off.

That was Kakashi, cool, calm, unflappable. The kid could have remained calm even if his hair spontaneously caught fire and exploded on top of his head. But that was alright with Iruka. He and Kakashi had stuck together through thick and thin, and they probably knew each other better than their own fathers did. Iruka knew he had enough of a happy-go-lucky and good-natured attitude for both of them, just as Kakashi was always able to keep him calm. They balanced each other out pretty evenly, and they were as close as brothers because of it.

"Yeah, so Ibiki said pretty much everyone's gonna be there tonight. Should be a good time, I mean, who doesn't like pizza and a whole bunch of friends playing some stupid game for hours on end? We all know Ibiki's gonna win, but it should be fun to see who comes in second. Maybe Raido? He's pretty damn competitive when he feels like it."

"Hope Gai doesn't challenge me to a damn pizza-eating competition or something," Kakashi muttered, a slight tone of annoyance in his voice. "I hate all those stupid contests..."

"So I've been told before... A couple thousand times, or so, I think." He grinned and looked beside him at Kakashi, who was shaking his head and smiling slightly, his hair tossing up and down. "Hah!"

"What?"

"Made you smile."

Kakashi rolled his eyes, the visible one, at least. "I'm not a complete emotional vacuum, you know."

"I know."

Kakashi smiled again. "Hn. S'ppose you do..."

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They stopped eventually at the back door to Kakashi's house. Kakashi took a second to chip a bit of ice off the lock and then unlocked the door and opened it. He stepped in, and Iruka followed, kicking the snow off his hikers before entering. He pulled the door shut behind him. Immediately he was assailed by the sound of barking and howling, loud and resonating and pretty close to deafening, and, seconds later, 8 sets of clicking paws bounded into the modest kitchen.

If there was one thing he loved about coming over here, it was seeing Kakashi's dogs. He loved all of them, and made sure to spend his first ten minutes in the door petting each of them. Ushi was the first to butt his head up against Iruka's leg, his massive, slobbering jaws open and drool dripping from its muzzle. Iruka moved a hand to scratch behind the gigantic brown Mastiff's rose-shaped ears. Tomodachi followed suit, leaning his tall, muscled body up against Iruka's side, begging silently to be petted. Iruka obliged, stroking the orange-colored coat of the mutt fondly.

He was hit suddenly by a flash of grey, and a crazed-looking Husky bowled into him eagerly. The ground came up under him and soon he found himself sitting up against Ushi's huge body, scratching his fingers through the eager Ureshii's thick grey fur, causing the dog to wiggle in happiness. And the rest of the dogs soon found their ways to him; Tsuchi, the mutt with the eye markings like dark sunglasses; Hidoi, who latched his sharp Husky teeth around his arm gently and refused to let go. Momo and Imouto were a little gentler, silently begging for attention and climbing up on his lap to butt their heads against him and nuzzle his hands. A tiny pug dog was the last of the bunch to reach him, but he was greeted by being gently lifted into Iruka's arms and cuddled against the teen's jacketed chest fondly. Pakkun was undoubtedly Iruka's favorite out of the bunch.

A few minutes later, Kakashi had managed to smuggle a good amount of food up to his room while Iruka distracted the pack of dogs, and he came back into the kitchen, beckoning Iruka to come on upstairs. Iruka slipped through the kitchen door and clicked it shut behind him, effectively sealing the dogs into the one room of the house in which they were allowed free reign. As he walked up the stairs, he unzipped his jacket, hot now that he was inside and in the central heating. He stripped off the rest of his outerwear and slung it over his shoulder as he stepped through the door into the veritable hockey wonderland that was Kakashi's bedroom.

It was like walking into the Hockey Hall of Fame in miniature; sports memorabilia coated the walls from ceiling to floor, with everything from signed hockey sticks to vintage jerseys in frames. Posters hung like wallpaper, and ticket stubs from what must have been every game Kakashi had ever seen filled in the space between. He had shelves of hockey books, and shelves of trophies, and shelves that held his signed puck collection. The bedspread was NHL print. The lampshade was printed with Ottawa Senators logos. His equipment was neatly put away in one corner, and if one were to look in the closet of this obsessive fan, they would find nothing but hockey jerseys and team logo t-shirts. The only thing not hockey-related was the 14-inch plasma TV that hung on the wall, but Iruka knew that even that that was used for not much more than watching hockey and playing NHL video games.

Iruka flopped down on the bed, eying the food Kakashi had dumped on his desk hungrily. It occurred to him that he hadn't eaten since very, very early that morning. Before playing a hockey game. He needed some food.

Kakashi collapsed into his desk chair with a tired sigh, turning to look at the stash he'd brought up with him. He began to list off what they had.

"We've got turkey, ham, or roast beef. Swiss or sandwich cheese. Regular bread or that Italian kind you like. Mayo. Ketchup. Salt and vinegar chips or regular. Coke or milk. And..." With a smirk, he held up the piece de resistance of their lunch spread. "Official licensed NHL cookies."

Iruka shook his head and grinned. "Don't you think you're, maybe, bordering on obsession with that sport, Kakashi?"

"Am not." A slight sulk entered his voice.

"Are too."

"Am not!"

"Are too. Now let me at those sandwiches; I'm starving..."

He practically dove on the food, fixing himself no less than three sandwiches, and claiming an entire bag of chips for himself. Half the carton of milk was poured into his glass, and with a grin, he tucked into his meal happily. Kakashi did the same, though with a bit less enthusiasm; not for lack of hunger, but just because he was, well, Kakashi.

Eventually their hunger subsided a bit, enough for them to turn on the TV and plug in Kakashi's Playstation 2.

"How about we play something else for a change? Medal of Honor or Halo or something. I've had enough hockey for today."

Kakashi shot him a predictably scandalized look. He then smirked and proceeded to set NHL '07 in the disk tray.

"You do realize that I'm not quite as obsessed with this sport as you are, right? This game is getting old, we play it, like, every time I come over and quite frankly I-"

"I finally unlocked Buffalo."

Iruka stopped ranting for a moment. Had he just said what he thought he just said...?

"You what?"

"I unlocked Buffalo."

Iruka paused, mouth slightly agape, and his eyes shining happily.

"Gimme that controller..."

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5 o'clock found Iruka slumped over the pillows of Kakashi's bed, fast asleep. Kakashi lounged at the other end of his bed, legs outstretched. Iruka's legs had somehow crossed over his as the boy slept. An old hockey game played on the TV, almost silent with the volume turned down as low as it was. Ottawa vs. Buffalo, during last year's season. Kakashi remembered it well, mostly due to the fact that Iruka reminded him often how the Sabres had been missing almost all their veteran players due to injuries and had still lost only by one goal to Ottawa.

Kakashi usually took that moment to remind Iruka that Ottawa had, in fact, won the game.

Iruka claimed it was a 'moral victory' on the Sabres' part.

Kakashi would then shove Iruka into a snow bank, smiling.

Kakashi himself was slowly falling asleep as well, his eyelids drooping even more than usual. He forced himself awake, however, shaking his head to wake himself up. He gently removed himself from under Iruka's legs and slid off the bed, reaching out a hand to switch off the TV. The screen flickered off, leaving the room silent except for the quiet, gentle snores coming from Iruka and his own breath. He grabbed a throw blanket off the end of the bed (Ottawa Senators print, of course) and tossed it over Iruka's sleeping form. He picked up the perishable food items from the desk and headed silently out the door, clicking it shut behind him.

Much as he wanted to sleep, the dogs had to be taken out first.

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And there's chapter one for you! A lot of introductory stuff, but something of a plot should start to form in the next chapter.

About the dogs' names: Ushi - Bull, Tomodachi - Friend (lifted the name from the KakaIru story 'Blind' 'cause I thought it fitting), Ureshii - happy, Tsuchi - earth, Hidoi - mean, violent, Imouto - younger sister, Momo - peach. It was fun trying to come up with names for all of them...

Note: Yes, I do realize that you don't have to unlock teams in NHL '07. I just made it that way because I am God of this story. So there.

If you have any questions about hockey terms or anything, feel free to ask via a review... Or just review because you liked it or thought something could be improved. Whatever the reason, just please do REVIEW!!!!!! Please?

Next chapter: Midnight Bowling with the team, and extreme discomfort for Iruka in the form of an obnoxious girl named Anko...


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

Here you go, finally:

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, nor Kakashi and Iruka... I wish...

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Iruka stared through the car window, squinting to see anything through the glare cast on the glass by streetlights.

Kakashi's father was at the wheel of the small Saturn. Iruka never talked much when Kakashi's dad was around. The elder Hatake had some kind of personal vendetta against him, and he had always found it easiest to avoid provoking the man. So he kept his mouth shut.

His attention was caught by a piece of frost broken free from the top of the window pane. It was now sliding slowly down the clear surface, leaving a thin, crystalline trail of half-frozen water behind it. He wondered if snow realized how pretty it was. Probably not. Definitely not. Snow couldn't think...

Iruka knew he was bored when he was thinking about the thoughts of snowflakes.

It was sort of a long drive out to the bowling alley, and it seemed even longer when you were scared to speak in the presence of the driver. Kakashi wasn't much help; he seemed to be in one of his silent moods at the moment. Fantastic.

He tapped his fingers on the glass.

Kakashi's dad turned around and gave him such a glare that he shrank back into the black leather seat and sat perfectly still for the rest of the drive.

--

When at last he and Kakashi ducked into the bowling alley out of the freezing air, they were met with a wall of sound, thumping bass that rumbled deep in Iruka's chest, and the loud voices of a mob of teenagers hopped up on caffeine. A lot of caffeine. The song booming over the speaker system sounded suspiciously like Fall Out Boy. Or was it Panic! At the Disco? He couldn't ever tell the two apart. He shuddered inwardly at the music choice.

"Hey, Umino! Hatake! Over here!"

Iruka turned to his right and saw Kotetsu and Izumo waving them over to a pair of lanes where Ibiki, Raidou and a bunch of others were lounging on the purple and black plastic benches. Ibiki's massive form was hunched over the tiny keyboard, and he was punching names into the machine. The two made their way over to the group, where they were greeted with shoulder-claps and short 'Hey'-s. Izumo thumped Iruka hard on the back, as if he were choking. Iruka saw that both he and Kotetsu were sporting their favorite jeans; black, and so goddamn tight that he wondered why they weren't suffering internal bleeding from them, much like he wondered how Ibiki managed to keep his pants on despite how the waist sat halfway down his thighs all the time.

Iruka took a seat at one of the tables, sliding out of his jacket and unwrapping his scarf. He hunted around the alley for a minute, searching for the specific neon-green 16-pounder that he always used. After his finally snagged it off one of the shelves, he got his shoes from the counter and set about trying to put the clown-like things on. Why did he always end up with the neon orange and hi-liter yellow pair?

He glanced over at Kakashi, who was standing at the counter getting his shoes. He'd taken off his coat. Iruka took in his choice of clothing, a red, longsleeve T that Iruka knew was his Senators one, a black, shortsleeve collard shirt, nice-fitting jeans and black workboots. It looked good on him. Iruka straightened the collar of his own navy blue collared shirt self-conciously.

Leaning back in his chair once he finished tying the laces to his shoes, he saw Kakashi next to him putting on his pair of brown and tan ones, practically fashionable compared to the sewn-together traffic cones that Iruka had ended up with. Kakashi winked at him, and Iruka glared back.

Behind Kakashi's head he saw a bobbing, spiky ponytail appear, and it seemed to begin chattering noisily in Kakashi's ear from what Iruka could hear. His friend was silent, staring straight forward with a bored, annoyed look on his face that clearly said "I'm not listening to a word you're saying. Please go jump into Lake Ontario and leave me alone." Kakashi got that look on his face a lot.

Iruka smiled cheerily at him. Kakashi gave him a half-hearted glare, and then slouched away towards the snack bar, the pony-tail girl trailing him. She bobbed beside Kakashi's laid-back form, and he could hear her speaking all the way from where he was.

Iruka felt a sudden urge to smack that girl. Hard. Preferably with his goalie stick. Something like jealousy panged deep inside of him.

He turned away from Kakashi and the girl and forced a half-smile on his face. He wasn't jealous. Well, at least he could pretend he wasn't.

A certain numbness spread through him and he swallowed, turning to focus on Ibiki, who was selecting his ball with one hand and jerking up the back of his pants with the other. Iruka wondered why he didn't just wear a belt. Or get pants that fit properly. Ibiki stepped back from the ball-return machine and in one fluid motion bowled the ball straight down the alley, at a speed that nobody else Iruka knew could match. The pins flew up and scattered with a hollow-sounding crash, and a giant red X flashed on the screen above the alley.

"Fuck!" Iruka recognized Raidou's voice.

A few seats over, he heard the back-up goalie, Asuma, murmurring "Here we go again..."

Why were they surprised? Ibiki had won every game of bowling they'd played since they were 5 and still having birthday parties here.

He saw a flash of silver out of the corner of his eye and turned to see Kakashi flopping down beside him. A cup of pop was shoved into his hands. After a glance at Kakashi's face, he couldn't help but laugh. He actually looked disgruntled; this had to be the first time he'd EVER seen anyone make Kakashi look that... put-out. Usually, Kakashi was able to brush off annoying people with his cold indifference, but apparently this pony-tail girl was not so easily dettered. He took a quick sip of pop. Dr. Pepper. His favorite. It made him smile to think that Kakashi had thought to get his favorite. It almost made him even happier to see that Kakashi seemed to have not purchased anything for himself.

Obnoxious-lass was now seated next to Kakashi, a paper cup of something in her hands. Iruka finally took a second to look her over thoroughly, taking in first the low-cut shirt, then the blue-jean mini skirt, and finally the chunky pink sandals. He wondered if she realized that here in Canada, where there was SNOW, that it was below zero out, and that sandals and a mini skirt were not exactly appropriate attire.

Her face couldn't be described as memorable, but her eyes did have a glint in them that seemed to add character to her every facial feature. The eyes made her seem intelligent, in that street-wise sort of way, and taking into account the mini-skirt, Iruka guessed she wasn't exactly from the right side of the tracks. All the more reason she should get the fuck away from Kakashi and leave him alone. He deserved better than her.

At that moment, Ibiki called him over. It was apparently his turn to bowl. Shit. That meant he had to leave Kakashi alone with the Mini-skirt skank (his newly coined name for her). Reluctantly, however, he stood up, set his DP on a table and moved to the ball-return machine to pick up his ball.

The throw was not his best effort. He swore under his breath as he saw the cutesy animation flash on the overhead TV screen, the one specially reserved for gutter balls. A stupid bowling pin dinosaur was eating a personified bowling ball. Very tasteful. Now even more pissed off, he headed back.

He felt his heart sink when he reached his seat. Mini-skirt skank was now practically hanging from Kakashi's arm with both hands, and she was giggling and blushing. The look on Kakashi's face hurt so bad it nearly knocked him clean on his ass.

Kakashi was smiling. Kakashi was smiling and staring at that girl, at that fucking goddamn mini-skirt wearing hoe (for lack of a better term), and he was laughing.

Something flared inside him, something that burned in his chest and made him want to drop to the floor crying. Instead, when he finally stood before the plastic chair where he had been sitting, he murmurred something about having to go to the bathroom and walked away.

He was pretty sure Kakashi hadn't even heard him. He was also pretty damn sure of the little smirk that crossed mini-skirt skank's face.

He proceeded to slam through the door of the Men's room and lock himself in a bathroom stall, hot liquid dripping from his cheeks. He slammed his fist down on the toilet paper dispenser, a small yell of frustration escaping through gritted teeth.

"God-fucking damnit!"

He slumped down on the toilet seat, scrubbing at his eyes, mind racing with conflicting thoughts of self-disgust and confusion.

"Jesus-fucking-christ... What the hell is the fucking matter with me! Christ..."

He wasn't supposed to look at Kakashi like that. He wasn't supposed to invent fucking reasons in his head why he should be jealous of some... some girl! This was wrong, so fucking wrong of him, but he couldn't help but feel betrayed as he saw Kakashi laughing with someone else. Smiling at someone else.

It was supposed to be him, goddamn it, him making Kakashi smile. Not some girl. Just him. The way it had always been.

"Fuck!" Another time his fist fell on the rusting metal wall dispenser.

He wasn't supposed to want his best friend that way. Kakashi was a guy, for God's sake. A guy. This wasn't right, not even close to right. If he was supposed to be jealous over something, it should be that Kakash had the girl, not that the girl had him.

"Shit... what the hell is this...?" He clenched his eyes shut and felt the tears roll down his face, burning hot.

He let them fall.

--

The rest of the evening could only be described as Hell for him. After he scrubbed the tears from his face and splashed some cold water on it, he braced himself and walked slowly out into the alley once more. It still wasn't his turn, thankfully, since there were so many people now gathered around for their game. The whole hockey team was there, at least, not including other friends, siblings, and... girlfriends. He tried not to think about that word too much.

Instead of going over to where Kakashi and that girl were sitting, he seated himself beside Ibiki and Raidou, staring resolutely at everything in the surrounding area that was not Kakashi.

"Hey, where've you been, man?" Ibiki's voice reached his ears.

"Uh... bathroom."

"Oh, alright... Hey, Hatake, you're up!"

Iruka resolutely stared over at the snackbar, refusing to let himself look. Unfortunately, his mouth suddenly seemed dry and he remembered his Dr. Pepper sitting on the table over there. The pop that Kakashi had bought him...

Goddamnit!

He stood up and walked over to the table and picked up the cup. He didn't look back at Kakashi bowling. He didn't look over at the girl.

Not until he heard his name spoken, at which point he turned and faced her as she just... just sat there and smirked at him. He put his soda back down in case he felt the need to throw it at her. He saw her rise from her seat and approach him, sauntering and swinging her mini-skirt covered hips. He stood in place and shoved his hands in his pockets, glaring sullen-faced at her. When she reached him and stepped over to his right side, his eyes didn't follow her, but rather kept staring right ahead.

He felt her breath on his ear as she whispered into it, practically leaning her whole weight on his side as she did so. Iruka didn't budge.

"Jealous, are we, Iruka?"

"Shut. Up."

"He's not like you, you know. He'll never like you the way you like him, queer. Remember that."

Iruka stiffened. Queer. No fucking way. Just because his hormones were fucking with him didn't mean... It couldn't mean he was actually like that. He didn't like guys. He wasn't sure what the hell all this shit with Kakashi was about, but it didn't mean that.

"Don't talk like you know me. I'm not some fucking queer, got it?"

He gritted out the words and stalked over to the other guys, ignoring Kakashi's greeting as he passed him on the way back to his seat.

"Umino, bowl," came Ibiki's voice before he could sit down, however, so he headed instead towards the lane, fists clenched in his pockets. His mind was spinning with the amount of thoughts that were flooding it. The one thing he wasn't confused about was his anger. He didn't know what the hell was making him so pissed off, exactly, but he knew he was pissed, and he took it all out on the pins at the end of the lane. A crash resounded through the room, and as he walked back, he looked up at the satisfying red X flashing on the screen, which was followed by another stupid cartoon, only this time the bowling pin dinosaur was getting crushed by a bowling ball meteor.

He felt an awful lot like that stupid bowling pin dinosaur right then.

--

Yay, chapter 2! Review, please. And yes, this one was rather short... Sorry.

Coming up: Monday at school, the return of the mini-skirt skank, and Iruka's unusual choice of employment involving a small orange-clad child.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

Disclaimer: Don't own Naruto, or Kakashi and Iruka.

--

Sunday for Iruka passed uneventfully, as he spent most of the day sleeping. His father picked him up from the bowling alley at about 9 AM. He didn't know how Kakashi got home, and at the moment he told himself he didn't care.

As soon as he had stepped in through the door to his bedroom, he'd flopped down on the bed, reaching over to click on his stereo. He hit play, and only got to listen to the first few minutes of the CD he'd recently bought before he drifted off.

He didn't wake up until three o'clock the next morning.

--

When his eyes finally cracked open, he realized he'd forgotten to take his contacts out before he fell asleep. Goddamn. He forced his legs over the side of the bed and cringed as his feet hit the ice-like floor. It was dark, but he didn't bother with the light switch as he grabbed his towel off the back of his door and headed for the bathroom.

The tiled floor of the bathroom burned his feet as if he'd stepped out onto the rink without his skates on, but he ignored it and began pulling off his clothing. The navy shirt he'd worn last night was smudged with bowling ball grease about the cuffs and was so wrinkled after his sleeping in it that he tossed it into the corner rather than hanging it up to be worn again. His jeans were folded up again to wear later.

He remembered his contacts then, and moved fingers to his eyes to slide them out. He didn't bother saving them and flicked the lenses into the garbage instead. He was due for new ones anyways. Looking up, he saw himself in the mirror above the sink. Leaving his contacts in had caused the blood vessels in his eyes to stand out noticeably. Dark circles dominated the space below his eyes and his face and hair looked greasy and unkempt. He ran a hand through his short, wavy hair and grimaced at the slimy feeling of gel that hadn't been washed out in nearly two days. He noticed a bit of dark stubble on his chin, and saw a couple pimples starting to break out on his forehead and on his nose around the long scar that trailed across it. He sighed and backed away from the mirror, reaching into the shower to start the water.

The steaming water revived him a bit and he let the warmth seep into his skin. He focused purely on his physical surroundings as he went through the motions of cleaning his body and refused to let his mind drift to what had passed at the bowling alley. He didn't want to think about it.

Ten minutes later he stepped out of the bathroom after brushing his teeth, towel-dried and wide awake. He carried his jeans back to his room and started to get dressed, pulling a clean black t-shirt from a drawer and an army-green, long-sleeved, button-down shirt from his closet. He pulled on a new pair of boxers, black, reflecting his mood, and then the jeans from yesterday. Seeing how fuzzy the world looked, he grabbed his dark-framed glasses from his nightstand and slid them on. Absentmindedly, he stood for a moment before the body-length mirror next to the chest of drawers and stared emotionlessly at himself. Beside the mirror there was taped a poster he'd gotten at a concert a few years ago. Matthew Good. He remembered the night like nothing else. His mind drifted to it for a moment... Kakashi had come with him and bought him the poster, claiming that since Iruka's dad had driven, he owed him at least that.

"Fuck..."

He forced his mind away from the night of the concert to the picture of Matt Good himself, his idol for he didn't know how many years. He compared the image on the poster to that of himself in the mirror and thought to himself, as he always did, that he looked a lot like him. Same hair, same boring brown eyes, same shaped face. But Matt Good was a famous musician and Matt Good didn't have a scar messing up his face.

He wondered vaguely if Matt Good had ever been jealous of a girl hanging off of his best friend's arm. He doubted it.

Iruka focused again on his mirrored image. He contemplated whether or not Kakashi might see more in him if he was better looking. Of course he'd rather be with some pretty girl than him. He was broad-shouldered and squarely built, average height, nothing special. He had acne, and a scar, and stubble on his chin and shaggy black-brown hair, that, though cut short, still refused to ever be straight or lie flat. It covered his head in waves and curls, and no amount of combing would ever fix it. He was masculine in every way, and it was no wonder Kakashi didn't like him like that.

Wait a minute. What the fuck was he thinking? He wasn't supposed to be thinking about Kakashi, and he wasn't supposed to be thinking about guys, and he wasn't fucking supposed to be thinking at all!

He backed off from the mirror like he saw the devil in it and grabbed his school bag from the corner. He didn't have his homework done, but for the first time in his life he didn't give a shit. He wanted out off his head. His own thoughts were terrifying him.

Storming through the kitchen and skipping any sort of breakfast, he reached the back door of the house. His hockey bag lay there, and his coat on top of it. He threw on the jacket, not caring enough to put on his scarf (Kakashi had bought it for him) and ripped open the zipper of the bag, digging around til he found his skates. He grabbed his regular stick from the corner and pulled on his dark brown boots.

He didn't even care that the door slammed behind him as he left.

The park around the corner was flooded each year for use as an outdoor hockey rink. A metal-framed net was fixed to ice at either end and a single red, fading line bisected the frozen area. Snow banks surrounded the rink, and a few black circles were stuck in the top of the net, ready for whoever wanted to use them.

When Iruka stood before the rink, it was nearing on four in the morning, and it was still dark out. The wind howled about him, but he ignored the burning cold. He slid down the side of a snowbank with his bag, seating himself in the packed snow right next to the ice. His boots were removed and replaced by his worn skates, his gloves were slipped onto his hands, and his stick was gripped tight.

A minute later he was skating his third lap around the pond, stickhandling a puck the whole time. He panted and felt drops of sweat trailing his face. Better than tears.

The familiar coursing of hot blood through his veins, the throbbing of his heart in his ears, the effortless gliding of his skates over the ice. Every ounce of his concentration being channeled into keeping the puck in his control, making it go where he wanted it to go. It was all that mattered.

If only his life could be as easily controllable as that puck.

He was reaching his twentieth lap and his physical limit when a figure standing on the edge of the rink caught his eye, forcing him to maneuver his skates around to perform a quick hockey stop to keep from tripping over his own skates.

Through the fog that obscured his glasses, something that resulted from his heavy breathing mixing with the frigid air, he saw silver hair only a shade darker than the surrounding snow standing up in messy spikes. His mind raced. A thousand different expletives passed through barely opened lips. The bottom of his safe, little hockey-centered dream world dropped out on him and he was falling even with his skates planted firmly in the ice.

"Shit... shit, shit, shit..."

He stared at Kakashi for a good minute.

Kakashi waved him over about ten times, but he stayed put, shaking his head slightly and swearing under his breath.

He started when Kakashi stepped out onto the ice. Iruka hadn't realized he had put skates on.

"Shit..."

He knew he couldn't out-skate the Elite's best forward. But he sure as hell was going to try.

Legs pumping furiously, he put on a burst of speed in the opposite direction, gripping his stick with both hands and using it as a much-needed balancing aid. Taking a turn sharply, he nearly toppled into a snowbank but righted himself with the stick and kept going.

He could hear Kakashi laughing. This was fun for him, and they had often played this game good-naturedly before, and it always ended with Kakashi practically tackling him into a snowbank. Kakashi always laughed when they did this. Hearing him, Iruka couldn't help but let a small smile find its way to his face.

He knew the game wasn't going to last long today, especially considering Iruka's previous twenty laps. He could hear Kakashi's skates getting closer with every gliding step he took. Shit.

Within another ten seconds, Iruka felt a hand on his arm, gripping his jacket, and before he knew it, a laughing Kakashi had tackled him full body into the nearest snowdrift, causing him to drop his stick and, laughing despite himself, start trying to shove Kakashi off him.

"God...damnit, Kakashi!" he said through his laughter, struggling. Kakashi laughed harder and let his full weight fall onto him, an arm on either side of his body. Iruka stiffened at the sudden and utter closeness this caused. Kakashi's whole lean body was pressing against his chest and he was breathing onto his neck, still laughing. Obviously he was oblivious to what this was doing to Iruka.

"Jesus... Christ, Kakashi, get off!" The laughter had left his voice. He shoved back at Kakashi, hard, and finally was able to struggle to his feet and skate a few feet out onto the ice, brushing snow off his clothing and breathing hard. He skated further away, kneeling to grab his fallen stick before putting on more speed towards his pile of stuff on the other side of the pond.

Before he reached it, however, he heard Kakashi skate up behind him and again he was seized by his arm, stopping him in mid-stride. Iruka jerked his arm free and kept going, ignoring the boy behind him. He had to stop thinking about him now, stop thinking about how it had felt with him stretched down his body and how it felt to have his hot breath on his neck...

Fuck!

No more! He was done with these goddamn raging hormones or whatever the hell it was making all of this shit happen to him. He just wanted it to go away. But Kakashi kept following him and eventually caught up again, again grabbing his arm. Iruka shrugged the hand away, pissed at Kakashi, pissed at himself, pissed at the whole fucking world.

Finally, he reached his bag and the snowbank. He saw that Kakashi's boots and backpack were also sitting beside his things.

Flopping down, he tore his skates off, slipped the blade-guards back onto them and pulled on his boots. He grabbed his bag, slinging it over one shoulder and grabbed his skates with the other hand, jogging back up and over the snowbanks onto the icy sidewalk. He walked as quick as he could without slipping.

Kakashi's footsteps weren't far behind him.

"Iruka."

He ignored him.

"Iruka."

He said nothing.

"Iruka, what the hell is wrong with you?"

This time when hands gripped his arm, Iruka couldn't shrug them off. He felt himself yanked backwards and felt his back slam into something flat, cold, and solid. Kakashi faced him, a hand on each shoulder, pinning him against the brick wall of the high school that they seemed to have already reached. Iruka hadn't even noticed. He refused to meet Kakashi's face, and he told himself that he wasn't standing this close to Kakashi. Told himself it wasn't real. Told himself to think of nothing.

Maybe his fucking hormones would cut it out if he didn't give them any thoughts to feed on.

"Iruka, I don't know what the fuck I did, and I don't know why you're so fuckin' pissed at me, but it would be nice if you could tell me."

Iruka didn't answer him for a moment, but he finally let himself look up. Kakashi's face looked confused, and for the first time ever, a little hurt.

"It's nothing you did, Kakashi... I don't want to talk about it."

Kakashi's grip seemed to have relaxed, so he shrugged his way past him and headed towards the door of the school, leaving behind a very confused Kakashi to stand out in the cold.

--

Iruka didn't know what to do. He had no fucking idea what he should do. Had he been this weird around Kakashi before all of this? He hadn't noticed any feelings like this ever before. Maybe he hadn't noticed because he'd just thought it deep friendship. Maybe he'd suddenly hit some higher lever of puberty and his hormones were raging. Or maybe somebody up there just felt like fucking with him.

He didn't know the answer. He felt like he didn't know anything anymore.

His whole world seemed to be unravelling right before his eyes, and he was powerless to stop it.

Had he really been this close to Kakashi emotionally, so close that this was ripping him apart inside? He didn't know.

Iruka tried putting it out of his mind again. It wasn't working as well as before, but it was something. He simply stopped thinking.

Pulling out his silver iPod Nano 3rdGen, he separated the headphones and stuck them in his ears, moving his thumb over the controls until he found what he was looking for. With Matt Good's voice floating into his ears, he stepped inside the school doors. The song was off his new album, and it's title couldn't have fit his mood more perfectly. 99 of Us is Failure. Too goddamn true.

--

The Konoha Senior High School was not the nicest school.

Sure, the kids were great, the courses offered diverse and interesting, the faculty dedicated, all of that. But as far as maintenance was concerned, you might as well forget it. The first thing you noticed when you walked in through the peeling grey double doors was the dimness of the fluorescent lighting in the halls. It seemed like every bulb was about ready to burn out or was flickering, the light going on and off in an irregular pattern accompanied by quiet buzzing.

The lockers were covered in a peeling, chipped blue-green paint that was probably, in Iruka's opinion, full of lead and other dangerous chemicals. None of the locks functioned properly; each year, you had to learn how to jiggle the lock in just the right way before it would snap open for you. Iruka remembered that three years ago, when he was a freshman, it had taken him a whole class period to force the damn thing open, by which time he had already missed the whole of English.

Actually, it would be lying to say he'd been able to get the locker open. It had been Kakashi who'd noticed him absent from that first class, asked to go to the bathroom, and, laughing the whole damn time, jerked the locker open with one yank...

No. No Kakashi thoughts. Not right now.

Iruka made his way up a flight of stairs and down the hall a ways before stopping at his own locker, a particularly rusted one with little to no paint left. The lock on it was a bear to open, and required a few extra yanks to pop open.

When he swung the door of the locker open, he was greeted by the pictures hanging on the back of the door and by his neatly organized notebooks. He took a second to glance at his watch. It was still only 6:00, and classes didn't start til 7:30. He might as well go take another shower. Besides, he was already all sweaty from skating earlier.

He slammed the door shut again, grabbed his stuff, and headed back down the stairs. Yeah. A shower might do him some good.

The gym was located off the main hallway of the school, and the locker rooms were connected to it. As a school athlete, he was allowed access to the room at all times of the day. Though the showers were a bit grimy, he was used to them. And luckily, this morning the showers were completely empty. He tossed his stuff on a bench, pulled off his glasses and started to strip his clothes off.

The hot water felt damn good, and he forgot, for a moment, about Kakashi.

By the time he was done in the showers, the hot water had run out and he was forced to dry off and get dressed again. Glaring back at himself in a mirror, he attempted to flatten his hair with a comb but had no luck. All it did was keep any one part from sticking out more than another. It didn't mean it didn't stick up at all.

Slipping his glasses back on, he looked back in the mirror and was disappointed to see that the glasses didn't improve his looks at all. They just sharply defined all of the stuff he didn't like. Like that stupid acne and the dark stubble he hadn't shaved this morning.

With a grunt of dissatisfaction, he shoved his stuff back into his bag and slipped his shoes back on before slouching out of the locker room.

Iruka usually wasn't one to slouch around. He wasn't one to grunt at things and act so listless and unhappy.

He considered today an acceptable exception to his own personal rules of conduct.

Rounding the corner of the hall already filled with students, he almost ran into some kid with baggy, Ibiki-esque clothing and heavy gold chains around his neck. He rolled his eyes and shoved past him, slowly getting more and more pissed off. He hated when people went the wrong way in the halls. It was selfish and inconsiderate, in his eyes. But today, he cut across the hall traffic and shoved people and bumped elbows and carelessly shifted his bag on his shoulder.

He was too caught up in his own issues to care.

He didn't really notice anyone until a hand caught his shoulder for the umpteenth time that day.

"Kakashi, what did I already tell you?"

"Go away. Yeah. Heard that. But I'm ignoring it."

Iruka rolled his eyes, but felt a tiny smile tweak the corner of his mouth. "Obviously."

He stopped when he reached the top of the stairs, turning to face Kakashi when they were out of the way of the hall traffic. He stomped down on the nervousness that fluttered in him when he met Kakashi's good eye with his.

"Why can't I get you to go away, again?"

Kakashi smirked. "'Cause I'm a damn persistant sonuvabitch and you know I'm not going to just let you go."

His tone dropped to something Iruka knew to be his 'I'm dead-fucking-serious' voice. "Tell me what's wrong, Iruka. I don't like seeing you like this."

His face was sincere, and Iruka wanted desperately to just talk to him. That's how he'd always solved his problems in the past. Kakashi had always listened. Why should now be any different?

Because it was different this time. If he told Kakashi, he'd lose his best friend at the same time. No amount of emotional liberation was worth losing Kakashi's friendship over. He shook his head and shifted his bag over his shoulder, walking off down the hallway towards his locker. "No, Kakashi. This time I can't tell you. This is the one thing I don't think you'd ever understand."

As he walked away, he blinked his eyes furiously, stemming the flow of tears that threatened to fall. Not at school. No crying at school. No crying in public.

As he walked away, he made himself forget Kakashi. For a minute.

Vaguely, as he approached the block of lockers that surrounded his own, he thought that there were a few too many people grouped around. Not that that was anything too strange, since the girl whose locker stood next to his was pretty popular and was prone to having mobs of people surrounding her locker at every 4-minute passing time. It was particularly annoying when they stood right in front of his locker.

Today, however, upon closer inspection, it seemed the people weren't gathered around the locker beside his. They were grouped around his own locker, staring at something, filling the hallway with a loud roar of voices. He noticed people he knew, like Ibiki, Kotetsu, Izumo, Asuma, and other teammates, and more kids that were the type of people he knew existed but hadn't ever spoken with.

He drew nearer to the crowd, dread and anxiousness filling him even before he saw what everyone apparently found so enthralling.

"Hey, there he is!" Words yelled by an unfamiliar voice.

What?

"Hey, fag!"

What!?

"Here comes Iru-queer, everybody!"

What the HELL!?

A quick couple of shoves got him through the now-jeering crowd to the point where he was able to get a view of his locker.

Three letters greeted him, bright red and still glistening wet.

FAG.

The red paint looked like blood to Iruka's eyes. His blood, because there was no way his name nor his reputation would survive this. It might as well have been his own blood.

His mind wouldn't really function for him. He couldn't really see. But his feet worked after a few seconds and he shoved his way back out of the mob of students, more words reaching his ears no matter how hard he tried to block them out. Fag. Queer. Homo. Gay.

He didn't know anything else to do but to get out of there as fast as his feet would carry him. So he ran.

As he ran, someone yelled his name, but he didn't pay any attention.

He just kept going.

--

Kakashi was confused.

Thoroughly, utterly, baffled.

There were three things he was confused about.

For one, he was still stuck on how easily that girl had managed to get under his skin during bowling the other night. It had been very strange, but something inside him told him that maybe it was okay. Damn hormones.

Secondly, though, and more troubling still to his mind was that Iruka wouldn't talk to him. He hadn't returned his calls (Kakashi had called his cell no less than 30 times in the last day or so) and he refused to even look at him unless he was forced to. He couldn't help but feel the incident with the girl was somehow connected.

The third thing had just recently been added to his mental list after he jogged after Iruka down the hallway to try and get him to talk one more time. There was a giant mob of kids where Iruka's locker belonged. That was weird. Definitely abnormal.

He overheard some of the words being slung around, another bad sign.

Kakashi's confusion reached its high point, however, when he saw his recently very strange-acting best friend burst out of the crowd and run full speed back down the stairs. Iruka didn't just run full out for no reason.

He took it upon himself to shove his own way into the crowd, glad for his height when it allowed him to see the object of everyone's attention.

"Oh, shit..."

Kakashi soon found himself running as well, only he was running towards something instead of away.

--

Wow... This one turned out to go in a different direction than I had planned... But that's always okay. Review, please, it makes me happy...


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Don't own.

Iruka didn't stop running until he was well away from the school.

When he finally did stop, liquid was dripping from his face and he wasn't sure if it was sweat or tears. Maybe both. He swiped his arm over his face, pushing up his glasses and wiping at the moisture that he felt on his forehead and cheeks. The wind kicked up again for a moment and bit at his face, seemingly freezing the droplets of liquid to him.

He couldn't think straight.

Which way was his house again?

He forced breath into his lungs for a minute, trying futilely to calm himself down. This wasn't fair. This was so beyond fair it was sickening. What had he ever done in his brief existence on this god damn planet to deserve this? How was it fair that the whole school was alerted to his... sexual orientation or whatever before he was even sure of it himself?

Of course, Iruka knew who'd painted that word on his locker. That girl from the bowling alley. Who else would have? Especially after what she'd said to him that night... called him a queer.

Goddamnit!

He didn't ask for this.

Although, he reasoned, he bet nobody really asked to be gay, or to be bullied, or anything...

Still didn't make it fair.

Glancing ahead of him, he saw his house just a block or two away. He shifted his bag back over his shoulder and, pausing once more to wipe his face, started walking down the sidewalk.

He'd have his dad call him in sick when he got home from work.

Iruka dumped his bag down by the back door unceremoniously as he entered the house. The kitchen was still warm and smelled of coffee and eggs and bacon. Damn. He'd even missed out on a good breakfast this morning.

When he thought of eating, however, his stomach twisted uncomfortably and he really didn't feel hungry, now that he thought about it.

What he wanted was answers. He wanted to know what the hell he was feeling.

Iruka had always seen himself as masculine. He'd always seen gay guys as effeminate. Somehow, he couldn't mix the two in his mind. He wasn't effeminate. How could he be gay?

He'd never felt different from the other guys. They'd always liked him, he'd always buddied around with them, and he was an athlete on the most highly respected team in the school. Gay kids didn't do that.

...Right?

He guessed he couldn't really say for sure. He didn't know anyone who was gay.

WIth a groan of frustration he slammed his bag down into the corner by the rest of his hockey stuff and stalked up the stairs. He turned into the first room on the right, his eyes glancing at the poster on his door that showed Ryan Miller, in his new gold-and-blue Sabres uniform snagging a puck in his glove. Other than Matt Good, Ryan Miller was his idol. He guessed, really, that if he could be musically talented and smart and look like Matt Good, and replace Matt's issue with bipolarity with mad goaltending skills, then he would be set for life.

But then, here he was, scarred and awkward and very probably gay on top of it all. Life sucked.

He entered his room and flopped back on his unmade bed, shutting his eyes tight for a minute and letting himself relax. He had to; he was acutely aware of the fact that he had very probably just been ostracized from the entire school, from his teammates, friends, acquaintences, everyone. If he thought on it too long, he would have an anxiety attack or something.

After a good three minutes or so he cracked his eyes open, glanced around his room, not quite knowing what he should do with himself now that he was taking a self-proclaimed sick day. His eyes fell on his computer monitor on the desk against the opposite wall, its sleek black surface beckoning him forward. Duh. He hadn't been online in days, why not?

An idea hit him as soon as he started towards the desk. Why shouldn't he do some research while he was home? Besides, what if he was getting all worked up about the whole gay thing and it turned out he was just confused? What then? Wouldn't that be a relief, to be able to confidently, unwaveringly say, "No, sir, I'm no fag"?

With a smile on his face, Iruka seated himself in his rolling chair before the computer, reaching over and pressing in the button to boot the machine up. It whirred to life slowly, the sound one of smooth mechanics working that somehow soothed him.

The monitor was glaringly bright compared to the darkness of the bedroom with the shades closed. He could almost feel the bright light reflecting the Sabres desktop wallpaper onto his face. His hand grasped the mouse, and he deliberately double-clicked the internet icon on the screen.

He braced himself, then lowered his hands to the keyboard and began typing into the search engine.

"gay"

Drawing in a deep breath, he pointed and clicked on the first link that popped up, clenching his eyes shut, desperately afraid of what might lie on the screen: possible confirmation of his suspicions. He hoped to God he was wrong.

--

A few minutes later, he found himself transfixed by the computer screen. Turned out thousands of kids his age were going through the exact goddamn thing! He'd found some site that allowed people to submit their own stories about dealing with their feelings. He almost eagerly clicked link after link, reading each and every message with careful detail. One had particularly caught his eye.

"I first knew I was gay when I found myself thinking more about guys than I ever had about girls. I thought about guys all the time, I judged them, I judged myself by them, I was constantly surrounded by them. Girls seemed like they didn't even exist. They were some strange, foreign concept that I didn't even want to deal with..."

There was more, but Iruka just kept reading those sentences over and over again. That was him. He couldn't remember the last time he even had a real conversation with a girl, let alone took the time to look at one. Yet he found himself constantly checking himself against other guys in the locker room, and then there was Kakashi... Kakashi was the only person he'd ever really connected with at all. Somehow he couldn't see himself ever having that kind of connection with a girl. They couldn't possibly understand things like Kakashi did. Some other guy, possibly, but not a girl.

Realization dawned on him all at once.

This was the confirmation he had feared. He was gay, this meant he was gay... That girl had been right, he was a goddamn queer and now the whole school had been alerted to this fact and he was never going to be able to go back to normal.

His life had just changed in the span of a few hours.

What would the guys on the team say?

If he was lucky, they'd shrug off the locker incident as an innocent joke; maybe they'd think it was funny and clap him on the shoulder and laugh about it. And he would have to laugh with them, all the while knowing, deep down, that it was the truth.

He was gay. He was a fag, a queer, a homo.

His stomach lurched suddenly at that thought. He slammed back his chair and stumbled out of his room and into the bathroom, dropping to his knees before the toilet just as his stomach churned once more and he found himself heaving and choking on nothing. His hands gripped the sides of the toilet with white knuckles and he was shaking, uncontrollably, and heaving over and over again. Nothing came up, but he couldn't stop the sickness he felt in his core and he felt tears start dripping down his face as pained sobs joined in with the retching.

It hurt badly, all of it, and not just physically.

Sometime in that unmeasurably quantity of time that he leaned over that toilet he noticed, vaguely, a hand begin to rub circles into his back and a quiet, hoarse voice whispering calming words into his ear. After a few more painful lurches of his stomach the heaving stopped. The sobs didn't and the shaking wouldn't go away.

But the hands stayed and the voice continued on, and he slowly felt himself calm down. A few minutes later the sobs and the shaking ceased. He took in a few deep, shaky breaths, trying to force air into his lungs slowly.

He hadn't noticed himself fall back against the person there, and he suddenly realized he had subconciously forced himself against the side of a warm body. He had assumed it to be his father. Who else would it be?

But as his vision steadied and the panic left him, he was able to see that the person beside him was taller than his father, and lean, and had a shock of silver hair sticking up from his head.

The realization nearly started him on another panic attack.

Kakashi... Kakashi had seen him like that, seen him break down and totally lose it. And now...

He threw himself away from the other boy with as much force as he could muster at that moment, falling back against the tiled bathroom wall and staring wide-eyed.

"K-Kakashi? Wha-what the hell are you doing here?"

He didn't know what he was expecting as an answer, but it sure as hell wasn't a single, lone tear working its way down Kakashi's pale face and a hoarse whisper.

"I was worried..."

"W...Why?" Iruka didn't know what to say. He'd never seen Kakashi shed a single tear before. Nor had he ever seen him look so... upset.

He wasn't surprised to see the tear wiped away in seconds, and Kakashi's face seemed to harden, which didn't disguise the hurt at all. Iruka was surprised to see anger appear on his friend's features.

"Why? Why the hell wouldn't I be, Iruka! You wouldn't talk to me! I called you, like, thirty times yesterday and you never called me back. And what the hell was that this morning, huh? You fucking ignored me, wouldn't talk to me... What the hell, Iruka? And now you wonder why I'm worrying about you? Why the hell would you ever think I didn't care enough to worry about you if you won't talk to me? Christ, Iruka..."

Iruka sat stunned for almost a minute. Kakashi had just strung more words together in one sentence than he usually said in an entire week, and it was almost scary to see him so emotional. He'd seen Kakashi determined, he'd seen him furious, he'd seen him depressed but Kakashi wasn't ever one to voice his feelings, no matter how intense they were.

He hadn't had any idea that Kakashi cared that much about him.

He hadn't had any idea that Kakashi cared that much about anything other that hockey.

Iruka had never wanted to talk to anyone more in his life. He wanted to tell Kakashi everything. Wanted so desperately to just get his issues off his chest, to just come out and say it, and he didn't want to see Kakashi reduced to this. Kakashi deserved to be told. He'd always been there for Iruka before, and he'd always listened and never commented, never looked down on him.

But Iruka simply could not tell him. He couldn't tell him about this thing that was eating him alive from the inside. Somehow, that thought struck him deeper than any pain he'd previously felt; all his worries now seemed foolish now that he was faced with this innability to tell his best friend this thing.

The tears started down his face again and he fought them. It was a futile effort; no matter how hard he scrubbed his shirtsleeve against his eyes, he could not staunch the liquid.

He was turning into a real goddamn cry baby lately.

Iruka didn't think he could sit there with Kakashi staring at him like that any longer and he forced himself to his feet, walking unsteadily out of the small bathroom and heading down the hall towards he didn't know what.

He wasn't surprised to first hear footsteps and then feel a hand on his shoulder for the umpteenth time that day.

Why the hell wouldn't Kakashi just drop it and let him go?!

Against all reason, he felt himself become suddenly furious. Didn't Kakashi realize he was making this harder on him by trying to help? Iruka couldn't tell him; there was nothing Kakashi could do for him!

He whirled on Kakashi at the feeling of his hand on his shoulder, lashing out with a fist he didn't mean to swing.

The fist connected with the side of Kakashi's face, making him stumble backwards wordlessly.

Iruka looked at his hand in horror. And, before he could stop them, the tears began to flow again. He shut his eyes tight. He didn't want to see how Kakashi looked, didn't want to see the bruise, didn't want to see the hurt he knew would be on his face. He fell back against the wall, leaning there, close to hyperventilating he was breathing so rapidly.

"... Iruka?"

The tears were streaming down his face now. The absolute hurt in Kakashi's voice killed him.

But he felt hands on his shoulders again and before he could shrug them off or hit him again, or do something to make him realize that Iruka couldn't be helped by him, he felt himself dragged forward into a hug, Kakashi's arms tight around him, Kakashi taking all Iruka's weight as the shorter boy felt himself slump bonelessly against him.

"Iruka, please, please tell me what's wrong. This is killing me... You have no idea how much this is killing me..."

Kakashi's voice was pleading. Iruka gave a hoarse sob, shuddering against Kakashi's shoulder before answering.

"I... I can't, Kakashi... I just... I can't, why won't you just... just understand that?.. I can't tell you..."

The arms tightened. Kakashi's voice dropped. It sounded hoarse, emotion-ridden, and yet strong and firm. Almost a murmur, but not.

"Iruka. Why can't you understand that I couldn't hate you for anything you might do? You... Iruka, you are and always have been and always will be my best friend on this whole goddamn planet. I haven't got anyone else. You're... You're my friend, and you're my family, Iruka. We're brothers; don't matter we've got different parents. You're my brother. I couldn't ever hate you for anything, Iruka. Not in my life. And brothers don't keep things from each other. Iruka, you have to trust me and you have to tell me what's going on... It's fucking killing me, Iruka. Understand that... You're my brother and I'm worried sick for you... you gotta tell me..."

Iruka squeezed his eyes shut, feeling tears fall from them and heard the faintest of patters as they dripped onto his glasses. And before he could think further about it, he spoke, in a quiet, weak voice he didn't know belonged to him.

"Kakashi... I think... I think I'm gay..."

He choked on the last word, forcing back another sob.

The world had seemed to still for a moment. He waited for the immediate drawback from Kakashi, the look of half-disguised disgust he was sure to find on his friend's face.

Kakashi didn't move away.

If anything, Iruka could have sworn the arms around him tightened again.

The murmur started in his ear again.

"How the hell could you think I could hate you for that? I don't care. I wouldn't care if you were a goddamn tranny, Iruka, I don't ca-"

"Kakashi, you saw what happened today!.. This shit scares me... People don't even know I think I am and they already singled me out... What the hell would happen if they actually found out? I mean... shit... I don't wanna be this, Kakashi... I don't wanna be like that..."

"I don't think you have a fucking choice, 'Ruka. And you got me, in any case... It doesn't matter that you're gay and I'm straight; I'm always gonna be here for you, no matter what else happens. You know that."

"Yeah... I know..."

A small smile crossed his face and he gently drew himself back out of Kakashi's arms.

The tears had stopped.

"You know, I think you've talked more today than I've heard you say in a whole damn year."

Kakashi grinned. Iruka couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt at the slowly spreading bruise on his pale cheek.

"I save my words for when they're needed. Now, you're gonna go put on some pajama pants and boot up the X-box and I'm gonna go make you a sandwich. We're taking a sick day from school."

Iruka raised an eyebrow. "Why the sandwich?"

"Because I thought you knew better than to skate laps without breakfast, but I guess I was wrong." He grinned and turned and headed down the stairs, lazy slouch back in his shoulders.

Iruka watched him for a minute before heading into his room, flicking on the light, flicking off the computer, and shutting the door. The quick press of a button and Matthew Good began singing his way through Generation X-Wing and Iruka thought, who was he to say no to his own brother? The X-box came out of its cabinet and the wires were plugged in and the TV flickered to life. He pulled on a pair of pajama pants and a Sabres t-shirt and flopped back on the bed, feeling as though a huge weight had been taken from his shoulders. He chose not to think about school the next day. He chose not to think about the mini-skirt skank and his locker and how the team was going to react. Because Kakashi was right. They didn't matter.

And when Kakashi finally came back upstairs, carrying a plate that held a huge sandwich buried under potato chips and a tall glass of something, Iruka looked at him and smiled and said, with a quiet, happy tone, "Thank you."

And Kakashi smiled back with that knowing smile of his, handed him the plate and set the glass on a table, and answered him with a murmurred "'Welcome."

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Haha... I liked that one a lot, personally.

Anyways... Please review, it makes my day.

Up Next: Iruka's return to school, hockey practice and Iruka's afterschool job. Plus, the long-awaited return of Anko...

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